



" TG 2 (3 Boat Se) OS) 6 
ru DE WITT’S ACTING PLAYS. 
WD) 3 (Number 91.) 


WALPOLE: 


OR, 


EVERY MAN HAS HIS PRICE. 


A COMEDY, IN RHYME. 






















\ 












eS 


IN THREE ACTS. 


er 


By LORD LYTTON. 


(SIR EDWARD LYTTON BULWEBR.) 
Author of **The Rightful Hetr,** ‘Lady of Lyons," etc., etc. 


TO WHICH ARE ADDED 


€ 


A description of the Costume—Cast of the Characters—Entrances and Exits— 
Relative Positions of the Performers on the Stage, and 
the whole of the Stage Business. 







Hemw-Pork : 


ROBERT M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, 
No. 33 Rose Street. 


re eee eee ke eee 


ek 











TEES 


( AUNT CHARLOTTE’S MAID. A Farce, in One Act, ByJ. | 
M. Morton, Esq. Price 15 Cents. iw 


ONLY A HALF-PENNY. A Farce, in One Act. By John Ox | 
enford. Price 16 Cents. . 


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WALPOLE: 
OR, EVERY MAN HAS HIS PRICE. 


S Comedy in Abyme, 


IN THREE ACTS. 


fy \ » 
. Ay 


-_. 


Bry LORD LYTTON, 
(SIR EDWARD LYTTON BULWER.) 
Author of “ The Rightful Heir,” “ Lady of Lyons,” etc., ete. 


20 WHICH IS ADDED 


A DESCRIPTION OF THE COSTUMES—CAST OF THE CHARACTERS—EN- 
| RANGES AND EXITS—RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PER- 
FORMERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE 

OF THE STAGE. BUSINESS 


| NEW YORK: . 
' ROBERT M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, 
No. 88 Ross Srrest. 


9 WALPOLE. 


CHARACTERS. 

Stir Sipney Betxtam, Bart., M.P. (can 
be played by a lady.) 

Lorp NITHSDALE. 


Tue Ricut Hon. Ropert WALpPOoLE, M. 
P. (Chancellor of the Exchequer, and 
First Lord of the Treasury.) 





Jouu Veasey, M.P. (his Confidant.) First JaconirE Lorp. 

SELDEN Biount, M,P. SEconD JacoBITE LoRD, 
Frequenters of Tom's Coffee House, Servants, &c. 

Lucy Witmor. | Mrs. Vizarp. 





‘ 


TIME OCCUPIED BY THE EVENTS OF THE PLAY—ONE DAY. 


TIME OF PLAYING—ONE HOUR AND TEN MINUTES. 


SCENERY ( English.) 
ACT /.—Tom’s Coffee-House, in, London in 4th grooves. 


CoP ees eereseresasece Sever edcescscecce Soveeserces Seaorters seocesseced?s 


* .pabte, = 2° -pabie, © 2 Opie : 
Open, : mre ee — : 
° — 4 | . lameeed z Pere 
os A A A A 
Setstere *H Door, 
pier tig) 
Closed in. ‘ Table and Chairs. Table and Chairs. : 
Fireplace. ( Pues +s B: Open 
sees Open. 


paintings, portraits of Queen 


The walls in panelling, dark red oak atew tramed oil etc. ; stut« 


Anne, Marlborough, Charles L., atter Vandyke, the Battle of iemhelm, 
uette of Bacchus, print of Sir W alter Raleigh smoking; a framed set of curious: ‘to- 
bacco-pipes arranged as a trophy; East Indian curiosities ; a stuifed raccoon, & 
handbill on a nail: “ Distressed Mother....His Majesty’s Servants....Prices of the 
Places,” a handbill “ £25 Reward. Whereas certain........ known for their ae 
es.... Monocks did set upon...... .-Waltreat....rolled the said Sarah Frost, i : 
hogshead, down Holborn Hill....on the night of....” Old muskets and rye. 
crossed, over fireplace, under a map. A, A, A, A, partitions of panelled oak, 

feet high, making small rooms or “boxes,” of the space between them, in whith sis a 
table with aseat running around three sides of each box. O, stairs leading off up from 
stage. R. v. E., open for Wairers to exit as to kitchen, for coffee, ete. L.2 %., 
double door. °B, a bar, with oyster patties, meat—pies, newspapers, books, tobaeco 
jars, red, with gilt Arms of Great Britain on them, and “*Tom’s” in black letters ; 
a public snuff-box, large. E, a cheval glass, on a stand, in which the Lounexrs look 
before going off L. p. Curtains to th: boxes, red. 


ee OL 
19 4ar 
1675 


ACT JI.—Scene J.—Room in 1st grooves. Portraits on wall. 7 
Scene JJ.—Room in 2d grooves. 


WALPOLE. o 


Secret Door. 


pe Sdevevecs sue | Door. | eeteoscone | | ceases eee eee 


—_ 
. 


Rn x mA. 
Ro — oe 
Ww. indow Door. 


‘ 


Lik 
eeee 
eeee 


™, A,aclock. Balcony outside of window. 


* "Scene Z77.—Outside of a House, court and garden wall in 5th grooves. 
TT ee.S oe Pe eeoseereaeteseteseortseeesse Boe None cob éiwe dulvaties candecetdater=——ols 
Landscape. os 
Opel. ‘> Wall. 
a A cee aes 
—... * * * * * * * a * os3:...Tree, ——4 
:: Wall. Open. 
= :: : PUES te fey uae S| 
rt Door : : Wall. 
ee) Sas es 
ie : : * : : Tree. a? 
Window & “s 
eo * an Tree, ——] 
ea 


—_ 


a oy ia housetops, with a park of trees between. 4th groove line, 4 row of 
er ; : ear enough to prevent a cart passing between them, four feet high, 
os Mog Cc Seppe in by a garden wall or hedge. L. 1 and 2z., agarden wall, six feet 
’ & < high, with spikes on top, anda creeping plant. R.3x., alow wall. R.1land 2 i: 
ie a set mouse front, on the ground fivor a window, 1 E., and D. 2 E. above it, a practica- 
‘3 ble window with balcony. B, iron railing, with posts to the door, with lamps, and 
. iron sockets, such as were used as extinguishers for torches. 
oy ACT J1I.—Scene J.—St. James’s Park in 1st grooves (or can be painted on canvas 
\% to roll up); two benches to be pushed on R. and. Sunset effect. Tree wings. Sky 
sink and borders. : 
Scene J/.--Same as Scene /., Act 7/., in first grooves (or 2d cut of Ist grooves.) 
Scene J]7,—Same as Scene JJ., Act 7/., but set in 3d grooves instead of 2d. 


PROPERTIES. 


ACT ].: Trays; plates; blue china cups and saucers; chocolate dishes ; eatables; 

a joint of meat, a ham, some preserves, on bar; pipes, tobacco, ete. Act II.— 

f Scene 1st Writing materials, books and papers on table ; three chairs. Scer’ 

é ' 2d: A purse, filled ; poker; hand-bell. Scene 3d: Pebbles. Act ///.—-Scene 1st: 

- + Note. Scene 2d: Note as before: candles in candle-sticks; book on table; 

g ' _hand-bell , pocket-book. Scene 3d; Lamp; miniature for Lucy; note-book; 
J 


key. 


4 WALPOLE. 


COSTUMES (English, 1700-20 ) 

Watroue.— Act /.: Elegant but rather plain walking-dress; fob watch and seals, 
sword, snuff-box. Act /7.: Handsome suit, embroidered waistcoat. Act //J.: 
Long dark roquelaure over his dress, same as Act J., sword. 

SeLDEN BLount.-—Dresses in rather sober colors, velvet, etc., russat, black or violet. 

Beiuarr.—Showy dress, laced hat, gold sword-knot, handsome court-sword of 
French style, jeweled snuff-box. 

Lorp NirHspALE.— Walking-dress, over which is a woman’s gown, cloak with hood, 
and he has a long curly wig, like a woman’s hair. 

Verasry.—Gentieman’s costume. 

JacOBITE LorDs. —Walking-dresses, fighting-swords. 

LounGERs in coffee-house.—Dandy dvesses, laced hats, showy sword-cases, gold- 
headed canes, 

FoormeEn.—-In showy livery, to run in and out of coffee-house. 

Waiters.—Long white aprons, sleeveless waistcoats, long skirted coats, etc. 

Lucy Wi~motT.—House-dress. 

Mrs. Vizarp.—Cap, old-fashioned dress, crutch-handled cane, a patch or two on her 
face by the corner of the mouth. Act //J.: Cloak with hood. 


EXPLANATION OF THE STAGE DIRECTIONS. 


The Actor is supposed to face the Audience. 














R. BR. OC. C. L. od. » om 
; ATDIENCE. 
L. Left. C. Centre. 
L, C. Left Centre. R. Right. 
ule. Left First Entrance. RlE. Right First Entrance. 
u.22. Left Second Entrance. n.2E. Right Second Entrance. 
u.3e8. Left Third Entrance. n.3. Right Third Entrance. 
L.v. E Left Upper Entrance g.U.s. Right Upper Entrance, 
(wherever this Scene may be.) mn. c Door Bight Centre. 


v.14. 6. Door Left Centre. 
[For Synopsis, see last page.] 


WALPOLE 


—— 


ACT I. 


SCENE.—Tom’s Coffee-house, in 4th grooves—At back, GENTLEMEN seated 
in the different “ boxes.” 


Enter WAuPoue, L. D., and VEASEY, R. 2 E., down steps, both to c. front. 


Veasty. Ha! good day, my dear patron. 


WALPOLE. Good day, my dear friend ; 
You can spare me five minutes ? 

VEASEY. Five thousand. 

WALPOLE. Attend ; 


I am just from the king, and I failed not to press him 
To secure to his service John Veasey. 
VEASEY. God bless him! 
WaLpo.e. George’s reign, just begun, your tried worth will distin- 
guish, 
VeaAsey. Oh, a true English king ! 
WALPOLE. Tho’ he cannot speak ENGuIsnH. 
Veasey. You must find that defect a misfortune, I fear? 
WaLpo.e. The reverse; (smiles) for no rivals can get at his ear. 
It is something to be the one public man pat in 
The new language that now governs England, dog Latin, 
Veasey. Happy thing for these kingdoms that you have that gift, 
Or, alas! on what shoals all our counsels would drift. 
WALPOLE, (jauntily). Yes, the change from Queen Anne to King 
George, we must own, 
Renders me and the Whigs the sole props of the throne. 
For the Tories their Jacobite leanings disgrace, 
And a Whig is the only sate man for a place. 
Veasey. And the Walpoles of Houghton, in all their relations, 
Have been Whigs to the backbone for three generations. 
Wa.poue. Ay, my father and mother contrived to produce 
Their eighteen sucking Whigs for the family use, 
Of which number one only, without due reflection, 
Braved the wrath of her house by a Tory connection. 
But, by Jove, if her Jacobite husband be living, 
I will make him a Whig. 
VEASEY. How? 
WALPOLE. - By something worth giving; 
For I loved her in’ boyhood, that pale pretty sister ; 


VEASEY. 


WALPOLE, 


VEASEY. 
WALPOLE. 


VEASEY. 
WALPOLE 


VEASEY 


WALPOLE. 
VEASEY. 
WALPOLE, 
VEASEY. 
WALPOLE, 


VEASEY. 


W ALPOLE. 


VEASEY. 
WALPOLE. 


WALPOLE. 


And in counting the Walpoles still left, I have miss’d her. 
(pauses in emotion, but quickly recovers himself ) 

What was it | said? Oh—the State and the Guelph, 

For their safety, must henceforth depend on myself. 

The revolt, scarcely quenched, has live sparks in its ashes ; 

Nay, fresh seeds for combustion were sown by its flashes. 

Each example we make dangerous pity bequeathes ; 

For no Briton likes blood in the air that he breathes. 

Yes; at least there’s one rebel whose doom to the block 

Tho’ deserved, gives this soft-hearted people a shock. 

Lord N ithsdale, you mean; handsome, young, and just 

wedded— 

A poor body—twould do us much harm if beheaded. 

Yet, they say, you rejected all prayers for his life. 

It is true; but tm private I’ve talked to his wife ; 

She had orders to see him last night in the Tower, 

And 





Well ?.— 
(looking at his watch). Wait for the news—'tis not yet quite 
the hour, 
Ah! poor England, I fear, at the General Election, 
Will vote strong in a mad anti-Whiggish direction. 
From a Jacobite Parliament we must defend her, 
Or the King will be Stuart, and Guelph the Pretender. 
And I know but one measure to rescue our land 
From the worst of all ills—Civil War. 
(solemnly). True; we stand 
At that dread turning-point in the life of a State 
When its free choice would favor what freedom should 
hate ; 
When the popular cause, could we poll population 
Would be found the least popular thing in the nation. 
Scarce a fourth of this people are sound in their reason 
But we can’t hang the other three-fourths for high treason! 
Tell me, what is the measure your wisdom proposes ? 
In its third year, by law, this Whig Parliament closes. 
But the law! What’s the Jaw in a moment so critical ? 
Church and State must be saved from a House Jacobitical. 
Let this Parliament then, under favor of Heaven, 
Lengthen out its existence from three years to seven. 
Brilliant thought! could the State keep i's present directors 
Undisturbed for a time by those rowdy electors, 
While this new German tree, just transplanted, takes root, 
Dropping down on the lap of each friend golden fruit, 
Britain then would be saved from all chance of reaction 
To the craft and corrup‘ion of Jacobite faction. 
But ah! think you the Commons would swallow the question ? 
That depends on what pills may assist their digestion. 
I could make—see this list—our majority sure, 
If by buying two men I could sixty secure; 
For as each of these two is the chief of a section 
That will vote black or white at its leader’s direction, 
Let the pipe of the shepherd but lure the bell-wether, 
And he folds the whole flock, wool and cry, altogether. 
Well, the first of these two worthy members you guess. 


Sure, you cannot mean Blount, virtuous Selden aa 
es, 








—~] 


ACT I. 


Veasey. What! your sternest opponent, half Cato, half Brutus, 
He, whose vote incorruptible 
WALPOLE. Just now would suit us; 
For a patriot so staunch could with dauntless effrontery— 
Veasey. Sell himself? : 
WALPOLE. Why, of course, forthe good of his country. 
True, his price will be high—be is worth forty votes, 
And his salary must pay for the change in their coats. 
Prithee, has not his zeal for his fatherland—rather 
Overburthened the lands he received fiom his father ? 
Vasey. Well, ’tis whispered in clubs that his debts somewhat tease him, 
Waupots. I must see him in private, and study to ease him. 
Will you kindly arrange that he call upon me 
At my home, not my office, to-day —just at three? 
Not a-word that can hint of the object in view 
Say some (slight pause) bill in the House that concerns lim 
and you ; 
And on which, as distinct from all party disputes, 
Members meet without tearing each other like brutes. 
Veaszey. Lucky thought !—Blount and I both agree in Committee 
On a bill for amending the dues of the City 
Waxpoug. And the Government wants to enlighten its soul 
On the price which the publc¢ should pay for its coal. 
We shall have him, tiis Puritan chief of my foes. 
Now the next one to catch is the chief of the Beaux; 
All our young members mimic his nod or his laugh ; 
And if Blount be worth forty votes, he is worth half. 
VeAsey. Eh! Bellair, whose defence of the Jacobite peers 
Watpo.te. Thrilled the Hou-e; Mr. Speaker himself was in tears. 
e Faith, I thought he’d have beat us, (taking snuff.) 
VEASEY. That fierce peroration 
Waxpote. Which compared me to Nero—supeib (brushing the snuff 
from his lice lappet) declamation ! 
Veasey. Yes; a very fine speaker. 
WALPOLE. Of that there’s no doubt 
For he speaks about things he knows nothing about, 
But I still to our party intend to unite him— 
Secret Service Department— Beilair—a small item. 
Veasey. Nay, you jest—for this gay maiden knight in debate, 
Toa promise so brilliant adds fortune so great 
Wapo.g. That he is not a man to be bought by hard cash ; 
But he’s vain and conceited, light-hearted and rash. 
Every favorite of fortune hopes still to be greater, 
And a beau must want something to turn a debater, 
Hem! I know a Duke’s daughter, young, sprightlyZand fair ; 
She will wed as I wish her; hint that to Bellair ; 
Ay, and if he will put himself under my steerage, 
Say that with the Duke’s daughter I throw in the peerage. 
Veasey, (thoughtfuily). Those are baits that a vain man of wit may 
seduce, — 
WaALpoue. Or, if not, his political creed must be loose ; 
To some Jacobite plot he will not be a stranger, 
And to win him securely 
VEAsEY. We’ll get him in danger 
Hist ! 























Linter Bevuarr, humming a tune, w. dD. 


8 


WALPOLE, 


BELLAIR. 
WALPOLE. 
BEuLIAR. 
WALPOLE. 


BELLAIR. 
WALPOLE. 
BEvLAI. 
WALPOLE. 
BELLAIR. 
VEASEY. 

BELLAIR. 
V EASEY. 

Bevan. 
VEASEY. 

BELLAIR. 


VEASEY. 


BELLAIR. 


VEASEY. 


BELLAIR. 
V EASEY. 


(carelessly ) 
BELLAIR. 
V mASEY. 
BELLAIR 


V EASEY. 


WALPULKE, 


Good-morning, Sir Sidney ; your speech did you credit; 
And whatever your party, in time you will head it. 
Your attack on myself was exceedingly striking, 
Though the subject you choose was not quite to my liking. 
Tut! I never bear malice. You hunt? 
Yes, of late 
And you ride as you speak ? 
Well, in both a light weight. 
But light weights have the odds in their favor, I fear. 
Come and hunt with my harriers at Houghton this year; 
I can show you some sport. 
Sir, there’s no doubt of that. 
We will turn out a fox. : 
(aside). * As a bait for a rat! 
I expect you next autumn! Agreed then; good-day. 
[they salute, and exit, WALPOLE, L. D. 
Well, I don’t know a pleasanter man in his way ; 
’Tis no wonder his friends are so fond of their chief. 
That you are not among them is matter for grief. 
Ab, a man of such stake in the land as yourself, 
Could command any post in the court of the Guelph. 
No, no; 1’m appalled. 
By the king ? Can you doubt him ? 
I’m appalled by those Gorgons, the ladies about him. 
Good! ha, ha! yes, in beauty his taste may be wrong, 
But he has what we want, sir,a government strong. 
Meaning petticoat government ? Mine too is such, 
But my rulers don’t frighten their subjects so much. 
Nay, your rulers? Why plural? Legitimate sway 
Can admit but one ruler to love 
And obey. 
What a wife! Constitutional monarchy? Well, 
If I choose my own sovereign I might not rebel. 
You may choose at your will!) With your parts, wealth, con- 
dition, 
You in marriage could link all the ends of ambition 
There ts a young beauty—the highest in birth 
And her father, the Duke 
Oh, a Duke! 
Knows your worth 
Listen; Walpole, desiring to strengthen the Lords 
With the very best men whom the country affords, 
Has implied to his Grace, that his choice should be clear. 
If you wed the Dukes’s daughter, of course you’re a peer, 
With the Lords and the lady would Walpole ally me? 
Yes; andif I were you 











He would certainly buy me ; 
(draws himself up haughtily) 
Why that frown ? 





But I,—being a man 
No offence. 


BrLLAIR (relapsing into his habitual ease). Nay, forsue me. Tho man, 


I’m a man about town 
And so graceful a compliment could not offend 
Any man about town, from a Minis!er’s friend. 
Stiil, if not from the frailty of mortals exempt, 
Can a mortal be tempted where sins do not tempt ? 
Of my rank and my fortune I am so conceited, 
That I don’t, with a wife, want those blessings repeated. 


ACT I. 9 


And tho’ flattered to learn I should strengthen the Peers— 

Give me still our rough House with its laughter and 
cheers. 

Let the Lords have their chamber—I grudge not its powers; 

But for badgering a Minister nothing like ours ! 

Whisper that to the Minister;—sir, your obedient. (turns 
away, R. to GENTLEMEN at table.) 


VEASEY (aside). Humph! I see we must hazard the ruder expedicnt. 


If some Jacobite pit for his feet we can dig, 
He shall hang as a Tory, or vote as a Whig. (VEASEY re- 
tires up stage ) 


BrELLAIR (seating himself, nr. co. front). Oa, how little these formalist 


middle-aged sclemers 
Know of us the bold youngsters, half sages, half dreamers ! 
Sages half? Yes, Lecause of the time rushing on, 
Part and parcel are we ; they belong to time gone. 
Dreamers half? Yes, because in a woman’s fair face 
We imagine the heaven they find in a place. 
At this moment I, courted by Whig and by Tory, 
For the spangles and tinsel which clothe me with glory, 
Am a monster so callous, I should not feel sorrow 
If an earthquake engulfed Whig and Tory to-morrow 
“ What a heartless assertion!’ the aged would say ; . 
True, the young have no heart, for they give it away. 
Ah, Tlove! and lere—joy ! comes the man who may aid me. 


Enter Buount, b. D. 


Buount (to Coffee-house loungers, who gather round him as he comes down 


¢ 


V BASEY. 
Buount. 


VEASEY. 


Buiount. 
VEASEY. 


Briount 
VEASEY. 
Biount. 


‘VV RASEY, 
Buiounr, 


the stage). 
Yes, sir, just from Guildhall, where the City has paid me 
The great honor J] never can merit enough, 
Of this box, dedicated to Virtue ( Coffee-house loungers 
gather around) 





And snuff. 
Yes, sir, Higgins the Patriot, who deals in rappee, 
Stored that box with puivillio, superfluous to me; 
For a public man gives his whole life to the nation, 
And his nose has no time for a vain titillation. 
On the dues upon coal—apropos of the City— 
We agreed 





And were beat; Walpole bribed the Committee. 
You mistake ; he Jeans tow’rds us, and begs you to call 

At his house—three o’clock. 

(declaiming as if in Parliament), But I say, once for all, 
That the dues 





Put the case as you only can do, 
And we carry the question. 
; Pll call, sir, at two. 
He said three. 
I say two, sir; my honor’s at stake, 
To amend every motion that Ministers make, (VEASEY /etzres 
into the background. ) 


BuiountT. (advancing to Beuuatr). Young debater, your hand. One 


might tear into shreds 
All your plea for not cutting off Jacobite heads ; 
But that burst against Walpole redeemed your whole speech. 


10 


BELLAIR. 


WALPOLE. 


Be but honest, and high is the fame you will reach. 
(x. c.). Blount, your praise would delight, but your caution 
offends. 


Buount. (c.). "Lis my way—I’'m plain spoken to foes and to friends. 


BELLAIR, 
Buount. 
BELLAIR, 


Biount. 
BELLAIR. 


What are talents but snares to mislead and pervert you, 
Unless they converge in one end—Public Virtue! 
Fine debaters abound ; we applaud and déspise them; 
For when the House cheers them the Minister buys them. 
Come, be honest, I say, sir—away with all doubt; 
Public Virtue commands! Vote the Minister out! 
Public virtue when construed means private ambition, 
This to me—to a Patriot 
In fierce opposition ; 

But you ask for my vote. 

Eogland wants every man. 
Well, tho’ Walpole can’t buy me, I think that you can. 
Blount, I saw you last evening cloaked up to your chin, 
But I had not a guess who lay, perdu, within 
All those bales of broadcloth—when a gust of wind rose, 
And uplifting your beaver it let out your nose. 





Buiount. (somewhat confusedly), Yes, 1 always am cloaked—half disguised 


BELLAIR. 


BLount. 
Bruualr. 


Buount. (aside). 


BELLAIR. 
Biount. 


BELLAIR. 
Buount. 
BELLAIR. 


when | go 
Certain rounds—real charity hides itself*so ; 
For one good deed concealed is worth fifty paraded. 
Finely said. Quitting, doubtless, the poor you had aided, 
You shot by me before I had time to accost you, 
Down a court which contains but one house ;—there I lost 
you. 
One hvuuse! 
Where a widow named Vizard—— 
I tremble, 


Yes 








Resides with an angel 
(aside). "Twere best to dissemble. 
With an angel! bah! say with a girl—what’s her name ? 
On this earth Lucy Wilmot. 
Eh !—Wilmot? 
The same. 


Buount. (after a short pause). Aud liow knew you these ladies ? 


BELLAIR. 
Buovunt. 
BELwLAIR. 


Buvovnt, 
BeE.LAIR. 


Biovunr. 


BELLAIR. 
BLouNT. 
BEvuaAtIR, 
Buount. 


Wiil you be my friend ? 
1? of course. Tell me all from beginning to end. 
Oh, my story is short. Just a fortnight ago, 
Coming home tow’rds the night from my club 
Drunk ? 
So, so. 
“ Help me, help!” cries a voice—'lis a woman’s—I run— 
Which may prove l’d drunk less than | often have done. 
And I find—but, deir Blount, you have heard the renown 
Of a set called the Mohawks ? 
The scourge of the town. 
A lewd band of night savages, scouring the street, 
Sword in hand,—and the terror of all whom they meet 
Not as bad as themselves ; —yow were safe, sir; proceed, 
In the m dst of the Mohawks I saw her anid freed 
You saw her—Lucy Wilmot—at night, and alone ? 
No, she had a protector—the face of that crone. 
Mistress Vizard ? 








I 


BRuLalRr. 


Broont. 
BELLAIR. 
Bruounrt. 
BeLLAte. 


Buiovnt. 
BELLAIR. 


Buiovunt. 
BELLAIR. 


BLOUNT. 
ee ale: 
LOUNT. 


BEu.LAIR. 


ACT I. 


The same, yet, tho’ strange it appear, 
When the rogues saw her face they did mot fly in fear, 
Brief—I came, siw and conquered —but own, on the whole, 
That my conquest was helped by the City Patrol. 
I escorted them home—at their threshold we part 
And I mourn since that night for the loss of my heart. 
Did you call the next day to demand back that treasure ? 
Yes, 
And saw the young lady 2? 

I had not that pleasure ; 
I saw the old widow, who toid me politely 
That her house was too quiet for visits so sprightly ; 
That young females brought up in the school of propriety 
Must regard all young males as the pests of society. 
I will spare you her lectures, she showed me the door, 
And closed it. 
You've seen Lucy Wilmot no more? 
Pardon, yes—very often; that is once a day. 
Every house has its windows 
Ah! what did you say ? 
Well, by words very little, but much by the eyes. 
Now instruct me in turn,—from what part of the skies 
Did my angel descend? What her parents and race ? 
She is well-born, no doubt—one sees that in her face. 
What to her is Dame Vizard—tkat awful duenna, 
With the look of a griffiness fed upon senna ? 
Tell me all. Ho there !—drawer, a bottle of clary f 
[Zxit, WAITER, R. U. E. 
Leave in peace the poor girl whom you never could marry, 
Why? 
Her station’s too mean. Ina small country town 
Her poor mother taught music. 
Her father ? 








Enter Waiter, R. U. E., and places wine and glasses on the table. R. c. 


Buovunt. 


Y 


BELLAIR. 
BuiountT. 


BELLAIR, 
Biounrt, 


Be.Lualr. 
BLoUNT. 


BeLuLalir. 


; Unknown. 
From the mother’s deathbed, from the evil and danger 
That might threaten her youth, she was brought by a stran- 
ger. 
Tv the house of the lady who 
Showed me the door? 
Till instructed to live like her mother before, 
As a teacher of music. My noble young friend, 
To a match so unmeet you could never descend. 
You assure me, [ trust, that all thought is dismist 
Of a love so misplaced. 
No—( filling Buount’s glass)—her health ! 





You persist? 


Dare you, sir, to a man of my tenets austere, 
Even to hint your desigu if your suit persevere ? 
What !—you still would besiege her? 

Of course, if I love. 


I am virtue’s defender, sir--there is my glove. (flings down 


his glove, and rises in angry excitement.) 
Noble heart! I esteem you still more for this heat, 
In the list of my sins there’s no room for deceit ; 


U. ©. ILL. Lib. 


? 


12 WALPOLE. 


And to plot against innocence helpless and weak— 
I’d as soon pick a pocket! 
Buiount. What mean you then? Speak. 
Bexuarr. Blount, I mean you to grant me the favor | ask, 
Buiount. What is that? 
BELLAIR. To yourself an agreeable task. 
Since you know this Dame Vizard, you call there to-day, 
And to her and to Lucy say all 1 would say. 
You attest what I am—fortune, quality, birth, 
Adding all that your friendship ailows me of worth. 
Blount, [ have not a father; 1 claim you as one; 
You will plead for my bride as you’d speak for a son. 
All arranged—to the altar we go in your carriage, 
And I']l vote as you wish the month after my marriage. 
Buount (aside). Can I stifle my fury ? 


Enter Newsman, with papers, b. D. 


Newsman. Great news! (music, antinated, piano.) 


BELLAIR, Silence ape! (coffee-house loungers rise and crowd 
round the NEWSMAN, L. C.—VEASEY snatching the paper.) 
OMNEs. Read. 


Veasey reading through the music). “ Lord Nithsdale, the rebel, has 
made his escape. 
His wife, by permission of Walpole, last night, 
» Saw her lord in the tower "(great sensation.) 





Briar (to Biuount). You will make it all right. 

VrAsey (continuing). “And the traitor escaped in her mantle and 
dress,” 

Bextuatr (fo BLounr). Now my fate’s in your hands—I may count on 
you 


Buounr (loudly). Yes, (music forte.) 


QUICK CURTAIN. 





ACT IT. 


SCENE 1.—A *00m in Watpour’s house in 1st grooves. 


» 
Discover WALPOLE and VEASEY sealed at table. 


Waupoue. And so Nithsdale’s escaped! His wife’s mantle and gown; 
Well—tia, ha! let us hope he’s now out of this town, 
And in safer disguise thanmy lady’s attire, 
Gliding fast down the Thames —which he’ll not set on fire. 
Veasey. All your colleagues are furious, 
WALPOLE. Ah, yes; if they catch him, 
Not a hand from the crown of the martyr could spateh him! 
Of a martyr so pitied the troublesome ghost 
Would do more for his cause than the arms of a host. 
These reports from our agents, in boro’ and shire, 
Show how slowly the sparks of red embers expire. 
Ah! what thousands will hail in a general election 
The wild turbulent signal for 
VRASEY. Fresh insurrection. 





WALOPLE. 


ACT II. 13 


(gravely). Worse than that ; Civil War !—at all risk, at all cost, 
We must carry this bill, or the nation is lost. 

















_VeaAsey. Will not Tory and Roundhead against it unite ? 
Waupous. Every man has his price; I must bribe left and right. 
So you’ve failed with Bellair—a fresh bait we must ty. 
As for Blount 
. Enter SERVANT, L. 
Servant. Mr. Blount. 
WALPOLE. Pray admit him. Good-bye. [ Hxit VEASEY, L, 
SEeRvANT bows in Buount, tL. 
Biount. Mr. Walpole, you ask my advice on the dues 
Which the City imposes on coal. 
WALPOLE. (motions Buount to take seat, u, c.). Sir, excuse 
That pretence for some talk on more weighty a theme, 
With a man who commands- 
Buount (aside), Forty votes. 
WALPOLE. My esteem. 
. You're a patriot, and therefore I courted this visit, 
Hark! your country’s in danger—great danger, sir. 
Buount (drily). Is it ? 
Watpotes. And I ask you to save it from certain perdition. 
Birountr. Me!—I am 
WALPOLE. Yes, at present in hot opposition. 
But what’s party? Mere cricket—some out and some in; 
I have been out myself. At that time I was thin. 
Atrabilious, sir,—jaundiced ; now rosy and stout, 
Nothing pulls down a statesman like long fagging out. 
And to come to the point, now there’s nobody by, 
Be as stout and as rosy, dear Selden, as I, 
What! when bad men conspire, shall not good men combine ? 
There’s a place—the Paymastership—just in your line ; 
I may say that the fees are ten thousand a year, 
Besides extras—not mentioned, (aside) The rogue will cost 
dear. ; 
Buount. What has that, sir, to do with the national danger 
To which 
WALPOLE. You’re too wise to be wholly a stranger. 
Need I name to a man of your Protestant true heart 
All the risks we yet run from the Pope and the Stuart ? 
And the indolent public is so unenlightened 
That ’tis not to be trusted, and scarce to be frightened. 
When the term of this Parliament draws to its close, 
Should King George call another, ’tis filled with his foes, 
Buiount. You pry soldiers eno’ if the Jacobites rise 
Waupoue. But a Jacobite house would soon stop their supplies. 
There’s a General on whom you must own on reflection, 
The Pretender relies. . 
BLovunt. Who? 
WALPOLE. The General Election. 
Buount. That election must come; you have no other choice. 
Would you juggle the People and stifle its voice ? 
Wapoue, That is just what young men fresh from college would say 


And the People’s a very good thing in its way. 
But what is the People ?—the mere population ? 


14 WALPOLE. 


No, the sound-thinking part of this practical nation, 
Who support peace and ordery and steadily all poll’ 
For the weal of the land ! 
Buount (aside). In plain words, for Bob Walpole. 
Waurene. Of a people like this I’ve no doubt, or mistrustings, 
But I have of the fools who vote wrong at the hustings. 
Sir, in short, l am always frank-spoken. and hearty, 
England needs all the patriots that go with your party. 
We must make the three years of this Parliament seven, 
And stave off Civil War. You agree ? 
BuountT (rises). Gracious heaven ! 
Thus to silence the nation, to baffle its laws, 
And expect Selden Blount to defend such a cause! 
What could ever atone for so foul a disgrace? 
Wa.poue. Everlasting renown—(aside) and the Paymaster’s place, 
Buount, Sir, your servant—good day; I am not what you thought; 





I am honest (going UL.) 
WALPOLE. Who doubts it ? (r7ses.) 
Buovunt. And not to be bought. 


WALPOLE (stays Buount at u. c.). You are not to be bought, sir—as- 
tonishing man ! 
Let us argue that point. (to c.) If creation you scan, 
You will find that the children of Adam prevail _ 
O’er the beasts of the field but by barter and sale, 
Talk of coals—if it were not for buying and selling, 
Could you coax from Newcastle a coal to your dwelling ? i 
You would be to your own fellow-men good for naught, 
Were it true, as you say, that youre not to be bought. 
If you find men worth nothing—say, don’t you despise them ? 
And what proves them worth nothing ?—why nobody buys 
them. 
But a man of such worth as yourself! nonsense—come, 
Sir, to business ; I want you—I buy you; the sum ? 
Broont. Is corruption so brazen? are manners so base ? 
WaLpPoLE (aside), That means he don’t much like the Paymaster’s place. 
(with earnestness and dignity.) 
Pardon, Blount, I spoke lightly ; but do not mistake, — 
On mine honor the peace of the land is at stake. 
Yes, the peace and the freedom ! Were Hampden himself * 
Living still, would he side with the Stuart or Guelph ? 
When the Ceesars the freedom of Rome overthrew, 
All its forms they maintained— twas its spirit they slew! 
Shall the freedom of England go down to the grave 2 
No! the forms let us scorn, so “the spirit we save, 
Biount. England’s peace and her freedom depend on your bill? 
WALPOLE (seriously). Thou know’st it—and therefore 
Biounr. My aid you ask still ! 
Waupour. Nay, no longer Task, ’tis thy country petitions. 
Buieyuntr. But you talked about terms. 
WALPOLE (pushing pen and paper to him). There, then, write your condi- 
ditions. (BLounT wriies, folds the paper, gives it to Wat- 
POLE, bows and exit, L. D.) 
WaLpoue, (reading). ‘‘’Mongst the men who are bought to save Eng- 
land inscribe me, 
And my bribe is the head of the man who wou'd bribe me.” 
Eh! my head! That’s amb:tion much too high-reaching ; 
1 suspect that the crocodile hints at impeaching. 





ACT ID. 1D 


And he calls himself honest! What highwayman’s worse ? 
Thus to threaten my life when 1 offer my purse. 
Hem! he can’t be in debt, as the common talk runs, 
For the man who scorns money has never known duns. 
And yet dave him I must! Shall I force or entice? 
Let me think—let me think ; every man has his price. 

[ Lxit WALPOLE, slowly, R. 


Scene changes to 
SCENE II.—4 room in Mrs. Vizarv’s house, in 2a grooves. 
Enter Mrs, V1zarp, RB. 


Mrs. Vizarp. Tis the day when the Jacobite nobles bespeak 
This safa room for a chat on affairs once a-week. (Anock with- 
out, L. ) 
Ah, they come. 


Enter, D. F., two JACOBITE Lorbs, and NITHSDALE, disguised as a woman, 


First Lorp. Ma’am, well knowing your zeal for our king, 

To your house we haye ventured this lady to bring. 

She will quit you at sunset—nay, haply, much svoner— 

For a voyage to France in some trusty Dutch schooner. 

Hist !—her husband in exile she goes to rejoin, 

And our homes are so watched 
Mrs. Viz. That she’s safer in mine, 

Come with me, my dear lady, I have in my care 

A young ward 
First L, Who must see her not! Till we prepare 

Her departure, conceal her from all prying eyes ; 

She is timid, and looks on new faces as spies. : 

Send your servant on business that keeps her away 

Until nightfall;—her trouble permit me to pay. (giving a 

purse, \ 
Mrs. Viz. Nay, my lord, I don’t need 
First L. Quick—your servant release. 
Mrs. Viz. I will send her to Kent witha note to my niece. 
{ Hait, Mrs. VizarD, Rf. 
First L. (to Niruspaur). Here you are safe; still I tremble until you 
are freed ; 

Keep sharp watch at the window—the signal’s agreed. 

When a pebble’s thrown up at the pane, you will know 

*Tis my envoy ;—a carriage will wait you below. 
Nituspaue. And, if, ere you can send him, soine peril befall ? 
First L. Risk your flight to the inn near the steps at Blackwall. 











Re-enter Mrs. VIZARD, R. 


Mrs. Viz. She is gone. 


First L. Lead the lady at onee to her room. 
Mrs. Viz. (opening u. p.). No man dares enter here. 
NITHSDALE (aside). Where she sleeps, 1 presume. 


[ Exewnt Mrs. VIzARD and Nrruspaug, L. D. 
Sxcoxp L. You still firmly believe, tho’ revolt is put duwn, 
That King James is as sure to recover his crown. 


f 


16 WALPOLE. 


First Lorp. Yes; but wait till this Parliament’s close is decreed, 
And then up with our banner from Thames to the Tweed. 
(knock at back, Rr. side) 
Who knocks? Some new friend ? 


Einier Mrs. VizarD, L., crosses to R. 


Mrs. V. (looking éut of the window, n.). Oh! quick--quick —do not stay! 
It is Blount. 
Bota Lorps. What, the Roundhead ? 
Mrr. V. (opening concealed door, L. in F.). Here—here—the back way. 
[Zxit Mrs. VIZARD, D. F. 
First L. (as they get tou. p. in F.). Hush! aud wait till he’s safe within — 


doors. 
Ssconp L. But our foes 
She admis ? : ‘ 
First L. By my sanction—their plans to disclose. 


Hixeunt JAcoBITE Logps, L. D. i F., gust as enter Buount and Mrs. Viz- 
ARD, D. F. 


Mrs. Viz. I had sent out my servant; this is not your hour. 
Buount. Mistress Vizard. 
Mrs Viz. Sweet sir! (aside) He looks horridly sour. 
Buiount. I enjoined you when trusting my ward to your eare 
Mrs. Viz. To conceal from herself the true name that you bear. 
Buount. And she still has no guess 
Mrs. Viz. That in Jones, christened John, 
Tis the great Selden Blount whom she gazes upon. 
Buount. And my second injunction 
Mrs. Viz. Was duly to teach her 
To respect all you say, as if said by a preacher. 
“Buount. <A preacher !—not so; as a man she should rather 
Confide in, look up to, and love as 

















Mrs. Viz. A father. - 4 

Buount. Hold! I did not say “ Father.” You might, for you can, 
Call me 

Mrs. Viz. What ? 

Buount. Hang it, madam, a fine-looking man. 


But at once to the truth which your cunning secretes, 
How came.Lucy and you, ma’am,. at night in the streets ? 
Mrs. Viz. I remember. Poor Lucy so begged and so cried 
On that day, a year since 
Buounr. Well! 
Mrs. Viz. Her poor mother died ; 
And all her wounds opened, recalling that day ; 
She ins‘sted—lI had not the heart to say nay— 
On the solace religion alone can bestow ; 
So I led her to church,—does that anger you? 
Buovunt. No! 
But at nightfall 
Mrs. Viz. I knew that the church would be dark 3 
And thus nobody saw us, noteven the clerk.* 
Buovnt. And returning 

















*Clerk, like ‘‘ Derby,” is often pronounced broadly, as if ‘‘ Clark” and “ Darby,” 
throughout E.gland. 


ACT Il. 17 


Mrs. Viz. We fell into terrible danger. 
Sir, the Mohawks 
Buount. I know ; ; you were saved by a stranger, 
He escorted you home; called the next day, I hear, 
Mrs. Viz. But I soon sent him off with a flea in his ear. 
Buount. S.nce that day the young villain has seen her. 
Mrs. Viz. Oh, no! 
Buount Yes. 
Mrs. Viz. And where ? 
Buovunr. At the window. 
Mss. Viz. You do not say so! 
What deceivers girls are! how all watch they befool ! 
One should marry them off, ere one sends them to school ! 
Brount. Ay,I think you areright. All our plans have miscarried. 
Go ; send Lucy to me—it is time she were married. 
[Zxit Mrs, Vizarp, R. D. 
Buount (alone at c.). When I first took this orphan, forlorn and alone, 
From the poor village inn where I sojourned unknown, 
My compassion no feeling more sensitive masked, 
She was grateful—that pleased me; was more than I asked, 
"Twas in kindness I screened myself under false names, 
For she told me her father had fought for King James ; 
And, imbued in the Jacobite’s pestilent error, 
In a Roundhead she sees but a bugbear of terror. 
And from me, Selden Blount, who invoked our free laws 
To behead or to hang all who side with that cause, 
She would start with a shudder! O fool! how above 
Human weakness I thought,myself? This, then, is love! 
Heavens! to lose her—resign to another those charms! 
No, no! never! Why yield tosuch idle alarms ? 
What’s that fop she has seen scarcely once ina way 
To a man like myself, whom she sees every day ? 
Mine she must be! but how !—the world’s laughter I dread. 
Tut! the world will not know, if in secret we wed, 





Enter Lucy, by R. D. 


Lucy. Dear sir, you look pale, Are you ill? 

Buovnt. Ay, what then? 
What am I in your thoughts ? 

Lucy. The most generous of men. 


Can you doubt of the orphan’s respectful affection, 

When she owes evena home to your sainted prot ection? 
Buount. In that home I had hoped for your youth to secure 

Safe escape from the perils that threaten the pure ; 

But, alas! where a daughter of Eve is, I fear 

That the serpent will still be found close at her ear, 
Lucy.  Youalarm me! 





BLovunt. IT ought. Ah, what danger you ran! 
You have seen—have conversed with 

Lucy. Well, well. 

Buount (c). A young man. 


Lucy 'r. c.). Nay, he is not so frightful, dear, sir, as you deem ; 
If you only but knew him, I’m sure you’d esteem. 
He’s so civil—so pleasant—the sole thing I fear 
| Is—heigh-ho! are fine gentlemen always sincere? ; 
Biount. You are lost if you heed not the words thatI say, 


18 


Lucy. 
Buount. 


Lucy. 
Broun, 
Lucy. 
Buiount. 


Lucy. 
Buounrt. 


Lucy. 


Biovunt. 


Lucy. 


Buount 


Lucy. 
Buount. 


Lucy. 
Buiount. 


WALPOLE, 


Ah! young men are not now what they were in my day. 
Then their fashion was manhood, their linguage was truth, 
And their love was_as fresh as a world in its youth; 
Now they fawn like a courtier, and fib like his flunkeys, 
And their hearts are as old as the faces of monkeys. 
Ah! you know not Sir Siduey 
His nature I do, 
For he owned to my friend his designs upon you. 
What designs ? (comes nearer to BLount.) 
Of a nature too dreadful to name. 
How! His words full of honor. 
Veiled thoughts full of shame. 
Heard you never of sheep in wolf’s clothing? Why weep? 
Indeed, sir, he don’t look the least like a sheep. 
No, the sheepskin for clothing much finer he trucks; 
Wolves are nowaday clad not as sheep—but as Lucks, 
‘Tis a false heart you find where a fine dress you see, 
And a lover sincere is a plain man like me, 
Dismiss, then, dear child, this young beau from your mind— 
A young beau should be loathed by good young womankind. 
At the best he’s a creature accustomed to roam ; 
"Tis at sixty man learns how to value a home. 
Idle fancies throng quick at your credulous age, 
And their cure is companionship, cheerful, but sage. 
So, in future, i’ll give you much more of my own. 
Weeping still !—I’ve a heart, and it is not of stone. 
Pardon, sir, these vain tears; nor believe that 1 mourn 
For a false-hearted 
Coxcomb, who merits but scorn. 
We must give you some change—purer air, livelier scene— 
And your mind will soon win back its temper serene. 
You must quit this dull court with its shocking look-out. 
Yes, a cot is the home of contentment, no doubt. 
A sweet cot with a garden—wailed round—shall be ours, 
Where our hearts shall unite in the passion—for flowers, 
Ah! I know a retreat, from all turmoil remote, 
In the suburb of Lambeth—soon reached by a boat, 
So that every spare moment to business not due 
I can give, my sweet Lucy, to rapture and you. 
What means he? His words and his looks are alarming ; 
Mr. Jones, you’re too good! 
What to find you so charming? 
Yes; tho’ Fortune has placed my condition above you, 
Yet Love Jevels all ranks. Be not startled—I love you, 
From all dreams less exalted your fancies arouse ; 
The poor orphan I raise to the rank of my spouse. 
What! Hisspouse! DoTI dream? 
Till that moment arrives, 
Train your mind to reflect on the duty of wives. 
I must see Mistress Vizard, and all things prepare ; 
To secure our retreat shall this day be my care. 
And—despising the wretch who has caused us such sorrow— 
Our two lives shall unite in the cottage to-nforrow. 
Pray excuse me—this talk is so strangely 
Delightful ! 














Lucy (aside), lam faint ; I am all of a tremble ; how frightful! 


[Bait, r. vp. 


7 


ACT If. i9 


Buounr. Good; my mind overawes her! From fear love. will grow, 
And by this time to-morrow a fig for the beau. (calling of, x.) 
Mistress Vizard ! 


inter Mrs. Vizarp, R. D. 


Brovnr. Guard well my dear Lucy to-day, 
For to-morrow I free you, and bear her away. 
I agree with yourself—it is time she were married, 
And I only regret that so long [ have tarried. 
Eno’! [I’ve proposed. 
Mrs. Viz. She consented ? 
Buiovunt, Of course ; 
Must a man like myself get a wife, ma’ am, by force 2 ‘(voice 
of Newsman, at back, and the r inging of hand-beil) 
Great news. (crosses L. to R., while erying out.) 
Mrs. Viz. (running to the window, listening and repeating). What! ‘‘ Lord 
Nithsdale escaped from the Tower.” (NITHSDALE peeps 
through u. D. 
“In his wife’s clothes disguised! the gown gray, with red 
flower, 
Mantle black, trimmed with ermine.” My hearing is hard. 
Mr. Biount, Mr. Blount! Do you hear the reward ? 
Brount. Yes; a thousand 
Mrs. Viz. What! guineas ? 
Buounr. Of course ; come away. 
I go now for the parson—do heed what I say. (NiTHsDALs 
shakes his fist at Mrs. Vizarpb, and retreats) 
We shall marry to-morrow—no witness but you; 
For the marriage is private. I’m Jones still. Adieu. 
[ Hxit Bount, p. F. Lucy peeps out R. D. 
Mrs. Viz. Ha! a thousand good guineas! (looks u. D.) 





Re-enter BLouNT, D. F. 


Buiovunr. Guard closely my treasure. 
That’s her door; for precaution, just lock it. 
Mrs. Viz. With pleasure. (as she shows 


out Buount, dD. P., Lucy slips out R. D. and goes up L.) 
Lucy (tries u, D.). Eh! locked up! No, 1 yet may escape if I hide. (gets 
behind the window-curtains, up RB.) 


Re-enter Mrs, VizARD, D. F. 


Mrs. Viz. Shall I act on this news? I must quickly decide. 
Surely Nithsdale it is! Gray gown, sprigged with red ; 
Did not waik like a woman—a stride, not a tread (docks R. b.) 
Both my lambs are in fold ; 1]! steal out and inquire. 
Robert Walpole might make the reward somewhat higher. 
[Hxit Mrs. VizarD, D, P. 
Lucy (looking out of window). She has locked the street door. She has 
gone with the key, 
And the servant is out. No escape; woeis me! 
How If love him, and yet I must see him with loathing. 
Why should wolves be disguised in such beautiful clothing ? 
NITHSDALE (knocking violently atu. D). Let me out, Tl not perish en- 
trapped. From your snare . 


20 WALPOLE. 





Thus I break (bursts open L. D., and comes down brandishing 
a poker.) Treacherous hag! 
Lucy. "Tis the wolf. Spare me ; spare! (kneeling c., 
and hiding her face.) 
NitHspALE. She’s a witch, and has changed herself ? 
Lucy. Do not come near me, 
NiruspaLe. Nay, young lady, look up! 
Lucy. "Tis a woman ! 
NITHSDALE. Why fear me ? 
Perchance, like myself, you're a prisoner ? 
Lucy. Ah, yes! 
NiruspaLe. And your kinsfolk are true to the Stuart, I guess ? 
Lucy. My poor father took arms for King James. 
NItTHSDALE. So did I. 
Lucy. You!—a woman! How brave. 
NITHSDALE. For that crime I must die 
If you will not assist me. 
Lucy. Assist you—how ? Say. 
Niruspate. That she-Judas will sell me, and goes to betray. 
Lucy. Fly! Alas! she has locked the street-door ! 
NITHSDALE. Lady fair, 
Does not Love laugh at locksmiths? Well so does Despair! 
(glancing at the window) 
Flight is here. But this dress my detection ensures. 
If I could but exchange hood and mantle for yours! 
Dare I ask you to save me ? 
Lucy. Nay, doubt not my will; 
But my own door is locked. 
NITHSDALE (raising the poker). And the key is here still. (bursts rR. p. open 
and exits, R. D.) 
Lucy. I have read of the Amazons; this must be one! 
NITHSDALE (entering by R. D., with hood, gown, and mantle om hws arm), I 
have found all I need for the risk [ must run. — 
Lucy. Can I help you ? 
NITHSDALE. Heaven bless thee, sweet Innocence, no. 
Haste, and look if no backway is open below. 
Stay; your father has served the king over the water ; 
And this locket may please your brave father’s true daughter. 
The gray hair of poor Charles, interwined with the pearl. 
Go; vouchsafe me this kiss. (kisses her hand, and exits, u. D.) 
Lucy. | What a wonderful girl! [ Hzit, x. p. 


Scene changes to 
SCENE I1l.—Zxterior of Mrs: Vizarp’s house in 5th grooves, 


Enter Buount, L. 3 £, to x. c. front. 


Buount. For the curse of celebrity nothing atones, 
The sharp parson I call on as simple John Jones, 
Has no sooner set eyes on my popular front, 
Than he cries, “Ha! the Patriot, the great Selden Blount !” 
Mistress Vizard must hunt up some priest just from Cam, 
Who may gaze on these features, nor guess who I am. (knocks 

at D. F.in L. 2 &, set.) 

Not at home. Servant out too! Ah! gone forth, I guess, 


he 


ss 
BEuualRr. 
Buount. 
BELLAIR. 


Briovunt. 
BELLAIR. 


Buovunr. 


* Bevuair. 


Buiounrt. 
BELLAIR. 
Biovunrt. 
BELLAIR. 
Buount. 


BELLAIR. 


Buount. 
BELLAIR. 


Biount. 


ACT ITI. ae | 


To enchant the young bride with a new wedding-dress. 
I must search for a parson myself, 


Enter BELLAIR, R. U. E., and through posts. 
(slapping Buount on the shoulder), Blount, your news 4 


You! andhere, sir! What means 
My impatience excuse. 





You have seen her ? 
I have. 
And have pleaded my cause; 
And of course she consents, for she loves me. You pause, 
Nay, alas! my dear friend 
Speak, and tell me my fate. 
Quick and rash though your wooing be, it is too late; 
She has promised her hand toanother. Bear up. 
There is many a slip ‘twixt the lip and the cup. 
Ah! my rival I'll fight. Say his name if you can. 
Mr. Jones. I am told he’s a fine-looking man. 
His address ? 
Wherefore ask ? 





You kill hex in this due]— 


* Slay the choice of her heart ; 


Of her heart ; 
But if so, why, Heaven bless her! 
My arm—come away ! 
No, my carriage waits yonder. I thank you. Good-day. 
[Hxit, u. 8x. 
I am safe—(shaking his left hand with his right) 
[ Haxit, R. U. B. 


you are cruel, 


He is gone ; 
wish you joy, my dear Jones! _ 


NITHSDALE, disguised in Lucy’s dress and mantle, opens the upper window. 


Nituspate. Allis still. How to jump without breaking my bones ? (try- 


BELLAIR. 


ing to flatten his petticoats, and with one leg over the balcony) 
Curse these petticoats! Heaven! out of all my lost riches, 
Why couldst thou not save me one thin pair of breeches ! 
Steps! (gets back—shuts the window.) 


Re-enter BELLAIR, L. D. 8 E. 


But Blount may be wrong. From her own lips alone 

Will I learn. (looking up at the window) I see some one; I'll 

venture this stone. (picks up, and throws a pebble at upper 
window.) 


NITHSDALE (opening the window). Joy!—the signal ! 


BELLAIR. 


NITHSDALE. 


BELLAIR. 


Tis you; say my friend was deceived. (NITHSDALE nods) 
You were snared into 
Hush ! 
Could you guess how [ grieved! 
But oh! fly from this jail; I’m still full of alarms. 
I’ve a carriage at hand; trust yourself to these arms. 





NITHSDALE tucks up his petticoats, gets down the balcony backwards, setting 


BE.LLAIR. 


his foot on the area rail. 


Powers above !—what a leg! 


99, WALPOLE. 


Lorp NITHSDALE turns round on the rail, rejects BELLAIR’S hand and 
jumps down. 


Be.Lualr. O my charmer! one kiss, « 

NirHspALE. Are you out of your senses ? 

BELLAIR (trying to pull uv her hood). With rapture ! 

NITHSDALE (striking him). Take this. 

Beuratr. Whata fist! If it hits one so hard before marriage, 
What would it do after ? 


NITHSDALE. Quick—where is the carriage ? 
Now, sir, give me your hand. 
BELLAIR. I'll be hanged if [ do 


Till I snatch my first kiss! (/ifts the hood and recoils astounded) 
Who the devil are you? (NiruspaLe 
tries to get from him. A struggle. BewLAIR prevails.) 

Bewuatr (c.). I will give you in charge, or this moment confess 

How you pass as my Lucy, and wear her own dress ? 
NITASDALE (aside). What! His Lucy? I’m saved. 

To her pity I owe 

This last chance for my life; would you sell it, sir ? 
BELLArR. No. 
But your life! What’s your name? Mine is Sidney Bellair, 
NiraspAue. Who in Parliament p'eaded so nobly to spare 

From the axe 





BELLAIR. The chiefs doomed in the Jacobite rise ? 
NITHSDALE (with dignity). I am Nithsdale. —Quick—sell me or free me 
—time flies. : 


Bevuarr. Come this way. There’s my coach. (podvis zt.) I will take 
you myself 
Where you will ;—ship you off. 


NITHSDALE. Do you side with the Guelph ? 
Betuatr. Yes. Wkat then? 
NITHSDALE. You would risk your own life by his laws 


Did you ship me to France. They who fight in a cause 
Should alone share its perils. Farewell, generous stranger! 
(goes up.) ‘ 
Betuarr. Pooh! no gentleman leaves a young lady in danger ; 
You'd be mobbed ere you got half a yard through the town ; 
Why that stride and that calf—let me settle your gown, 


(clinging to him and leading hin u, and speaking as they 


exeunt L. 8E. 
No, no; I willsee you at least to my carriage. (of L.) 
To what place shall it drive ? 
NITHSDALE (of L.). To Blackwall. 


Enter Lucy, from the window. 


Lucy. Hateful marriage ! 
But where’s that poor lady? What!—gone? She is free! 
Could she leap from the window ? I wish I were she. (retreats.) 


Re-enter BELLAIRE, L. 8 E. 
Bruiartr. Now she’s safe in my coach, on condition I own, 


Not flattering, sweet creature, to leave her alone. 
Lucy (peeping). It is he. : 


Brutatr. 


Lucy. 
BELLAIR. 


Lucy. 
BELLAIR. 


Lucy. 


BeEvatrR. 


Lucy. 


BELLAIR. 
Lucy. 
Belair. 


Lucy. 
BreuLalr. 
Lucy. 


BenLalR. 
Lucy. 
BeELLAIR. 
Lucy. 
BELLAIR. 
Lucy. 


Bevair. 
Lucy. 
BELLAIR. 


Lucy. 
BELLAIR. 


Lucy 


ACT If. 28 


Ah! If Lucy would only appear ! (stoops to pick up 
a stone, and tn the act to fing as Lucy comes out) 
O my Lucy !—mine angel ! 
Why is he so dear ? 
Is it true? From that face am I evermore banished ? 
In your love was the dream of my life! Is it vanished ? 
Have you pledged to another your hand and your heart? 
Not my heart. Oh, not that. 
But your hand? By what art, 
By what force, are you won heart and hand to dissever, 
And consent to loathed nuptials that part us forever ? 
Would that pain you so much ? 
Can youask? Qh, believe me, 
You're my all in the world! 
lam told you deceive me ; 
That you harbor designs which my lips dare net name, 
And your words full of honor veil thoughts full of shame 
Ah, sir! I’m so young and so friendless—so weak ! 
Do not ask for my heart if you take it to break, 
Who can slander me thus! Not my friend, I am sure, 
His friend ! 
Can my love know one feeling impure 

When I Jay at your feet all I have in this life 
Wealth and rank, name and honor—and woo you as wife ? 
As your wife! Atl about you seems so much above 
My mean lot 

And so worthless compared to your love. 
You reject, then, this suitor ?7—my hand you accept ? 
Ah! but do you not see in what prison I’m kept ? 
And this suitor 

You hate him! 
Till this day, say rather——— 











What? 
1 loved him. 
You loved! 
As I might a grandfather. 
He has shielded the or phan; ;—I had not a notion 
That he claimed from me more than a grandchild’s devotion. 
And my heart ceased to beat between terror and sorrow 
When he said he would make me his wife and to-morrow. 
Fly with me, and at once! 
She has locked the street-door. 
And my angel’s not made to jump down from that floor, 
Listen—-quick ; I hear voices ;—I save you ; this night 
Til arrange all we need both for wedlock and flight. 
At what time after dark does your she dragon c!ose 
Her sweet eyes, and her household consign to repose ? 
About nine in this season of winter. What then? - 
By the window keep watch. When the clock has struck ten 
A slight stone smites the casement ;— below I attend. 
You will see a safe ladder; at ouce you déscend. 
We then reach your new home, priest and friends shall be 
there, 
Proud to bless the young bride of Sir Sidney Bellair. 
Hush! the steps come this way; donot fail! She is won, 
- [Heit Bevuatr, L. D. 
Stay ;—I tremble as guilty. Heavens! what have | done? 
CURTAIN. 


24 WALPOLE. 


ACT III. 
SCENE I.—St. James’s Park in 1st grooves, 
‘Enter Buount. 


Bount. So the parson is found and the cottage is hired— 
Every fear was dispelled when my rival retired. 
Even my stern mother country must spare from my life, 
A brief moon of that honey one tastes with a wife! 
And then strong as a giant, recruited by sleep, 
On corruption and Walpole my fury shall sweep, a 
’Mid the cheers of the House I will state in my place 
How the bribes that he proffered were flung in his face. 
Men shall class me amid those examples of worth 
Which, alas! become daily more rare on this earth; (takes 
seat on bench, u.) 
And Posterity, setting its brand on the front 
Of a Walpole, select for its homage a Blount. 


Enter BELLAIR, R., gayly singing. 


Betuair. “The dove builds where the leaves are still green on the - 





tree 4 
Buount (rising). Ha! 
BELLAIR. ‘For May and December can never agree.” 
Buiount. Iamglad you’ve so quickly got over that blow. 
Betrair. Fallala! . 


Buiount (aside). What this levity means I must know. 
(aloud) The friend I best loved was your father, Bellair— ; 
. Let me hope your strange mirth is no laugh of despair. 
BetuatrR, On the wit of the wisest man it is no stigma 
If the heart of a girl is to him an enigma ; 
That my Lucy was lost to my arms you believed— 
Wish me joy, my dear Blount, you were grossly deceived. 
She is mine !——-What on earth are you thinking about ? 7 
Do you hear ? 


BLount. I am racked ! 

BELLAIR. What ? 

Buiount. A twinge of the gout (reseating himself.) — 
Pray excuse me. 

BELLAIR. Nay, rather myself I reproach 


For not heeding your pain. Let me call you a coach. ~ 
Biount. Nay, nay, itis gone. Iam eager to hear 
How I’ve been thus deceived—make my blunder more clear. 
You have seen her? 
Bevualr. Of course. From her own lips I gather 
That your good Mr. Jones might be Lucy’s grandfather, 
Childish fear, or of Vizard—who seems a virago— 


Or the old man himself 





Buovnt. Oh! 
BELLAIR. You groan? 
Buount. The lumbago ! 


Bexnuarr. Ah! they say gout is shifty—now here and now there. 
Biount. Pooh!--continue. The girl then 





ACT III. 25 


Beare. I found in despair. 
But no matter—all’s happily settled at last. 
Brount. Ah! eloped from the house? 


BeELLair. No, the door was made fast. 
But to-night I would ask you a favor. 
Buoont. What? Say. 


Betuarr. If your pain should have left you, to give her away. 
For myself it is meet that 1 take every care 
That my kinsfo:k shall hail the new Lady Bellair. 
I’ve induced my two aunts (who are prudish) to grace 
With their presence my house. where the nupuals take place. 
And to act as her father there’s no man so fit 
. As yourself, dear old Blount, if the gout will permit. 
Buoont. ‘Tis au honor—— — 
BELLAIR. ~ Say pleasure. 
Buoonr. Great pleasure! Proceed. 
How is she, if the door is still fast, to be freed ? 
Is the house to be stormed ? 
Be Lair. Nay ; I told you before 
That a house has its windows as well as its door. 
And a stone at the pane for a signal suffices, 
While a ladder: 








Brovunt. I see. (aside) What infernal devices ! 
Has she no maiden fear 
BeELLaIR. From the ladder to fall ? 


Ask her that—when we meet at my house in Whitehall. 
Enter First Jacosite Lorp, t. 


LORD (giving note to Beuuatr). If I err not I speak to Sir Sidney Bellair 2 
Pray vouchsafe me one moment in private. (draws him aside, u.) 
Buiount. Despair ! 
How prevent 2—how forestall ? Could I win but delay, 
I might yet brush this stinging fly out of my way. 


While he speaks, enter VEASEY, R. 





Vrasey. Ah! Bellair whispering close with that Jacobite lord 
Are they hatching some plot ? (hides between wing and scene, R., 
listening.) 
BeLLAIR (reading). So he’s safely on board 
Lorp. - And should Fortune shake out other lots from her urn, 
We poor friends of the Stuart, might serve you in turn. 
You were talking with Blount—Selden Blount—is he one 
Of your friends ? . 
BELLAIR. Ay, the truest. 
~ Lorp, Then warn him to shun 
That vile Jezabel’s man trap—lI know he goes there. 
Whom she welcomes she sells. 
BeLLalrr. I will bid him baware. (shakes hands.) 
[ Hxit JAcoBiTE Lorp, L. 
Bewvatr (to Biuount). I have just learned a secret, ’tis fit I should tell 
Vou. 
Go no more to old Vizard’s, or know she will sell you, 
Nithsdale hid in her house when the scaffold he fled. 
Sie received him, and went for the price an his head; 





26 


Buiovunt. 
BELLAIR. 
Buoount. 
BELLAIR. 


| 


WALPOLE. 


But—the droilest mistake—of that tale by -and-bye— 


He was freed ; is safe now ! 
Who delivered him ? 


te 


Ha! you—did! 
See, he sends me this letter of thanks. 


Buount (reading). Wich invites you to join with the Jacobite ranks. 


BreLbaiR. 
Biovunt. 
BELLAIR, 
Buiount. 


Be vbair. 


Buiovunt. 
BELuAIR. 


Buiount (picking up the letier). Nithsdale’s letter. Bright thought! 


BELLAIR. 
Biount. 
BELLAIR. 
Buount. 
VEASEY. 
TiLount. 
VEASEY. 
Biount. 


VEASEY. 


Biount. 


VREASEY. 


BiLount. 


VEASEY. 
Buiount, 


VEASEY. 
BLount. 





And when James has his kingdom 
That chance is remote ; 
Hints an earldom for you. 
Bah! 
Take care of this note. (appears 


to thrust it into BELLAIR’S coat-pocket—leis it fall and puts 


his foot on it.) 
Had I guessed that the hag was so greedy of gold, 
Long ago I had bought Lucy out ofher hold; — 
But to- night the dear child will be free from her power. 
Adieu! I expect, then 

Hold! at what hour ? 

By the window at ten, self and ladder await her; 
The wedding—eleven ; you will not be later. 





[Hzit, rR. 
—and 


what luck! I see Veasey. 


Re-enter BELLAIR, R. 


Blount, I say, will o!d Jones be to-morrow uneasy ? 
Can’t you fancy his face ? 
Yes; ha! ha! 
Tam off. [Ezit, x. 
What! shall I, Selden Blount, be a poppinjay’s scoff? 
Mr. Veasey, your servant. 
I trust, on the whole, 
That you've settled with Walpole the prices of coal. 
Coals be—lighted below! Sir, the country’s in danger, 
To that fact Walpole says that no patriot’s a stranger. 
With the safety of England myself I will task, 
If you hold yourself licensed to grant what I ask, 
Whatsoever the terms of a patriot so staunch, 
Walpole gives you--I speak as his proxy—earte blanche. 
If | break private ties where the Public's at stake, 
Still my friend is my friend ; the condition I make 
Is to seep him shut up from all share in rash strife, 
And secure him from danger, to fortune and life. 
Blount—agreed. And this friend? Scaree a moment ago 
I marked Sidney Bellair in crose talk with 
I know. 
There’s a plot to be checked ere it start into shape. 
Hark! Bellair had a hand in Lord Nithsdale’s escape ! 
That’s abetment of treason. 
Read this, and attend. (gives Nrvus- 
DALE'S nole to BELLAIR, which VEASEY reads) 
Snares atrocious are set to entrap my poor friend: 
In an outbreak to follow that Jacobite’s flight—— 
In an outbreak ? Where ?—when? 
Hush! in Loudon to-night 





VEASEY. 
Buount. 
VEASE*®. 


Buovunt. 


ACT III. Bi 


He is thoughtless and young. Act on this information. 

Quick, arrest him at once; and watch over the nation, 

No precaution too great against men disaffected, 

And the law gives you leave to confine the suspected. 

Ay, this note will suffice tor a warrant. Be sure, 

Ere tlie clock strike the quarter, your friend is secure. 
[Hit VEASEY, R. 

Good; my rival to-night will be swept from my way, 

And Johi Jones shali wake easy eno’ the next day. 

Do [ stiil love this girl? No, my hate is so strong, 

That to me, whom she mocks, she alone shall belong. 

I need trust to that saleable Vizard no more. 

Ha! J stand as Bellair the bride’s window before. 

Oh, when love comes so late how it maddens the brain, 

Between shame for our folly, and rage at our pain! [ Zzit, x. 


Scene changes to 


SCENE II.—Room in Waupoue’s house, in 2d cut of 1st grooves. 


WALPOLE. 


Enter WALPOLE, R. 


So Lord Nithsdale’s shipped off. There’s an end of one 
trouble 

When his head’s at Boulogne the reward shail be double 
(seating himself, R. c., takes up a book—glances at it, avd 
throws it down) 

Stuff! I wonder what lies the Historians will tell 

When they babble of one Robert Walpo'e! Well, well, 

Let them sneer at his blunders, declaim on his vices,. 

Cite the rogues whom he purchased, and rail at the prices, 

They shall own that all Just for revenge he withstvod ; 

And, if lavish of gold, he was sparing of blood ; 

That when Evgland was threatened by France and by Rome, 

He forced peace from abroad and encamped at her home 

And the Freedom he left rooted firm in mild laws, 

May o’ershadow the faults of deeds done in her cause! 


Enter VEASEY, L. 


VEASEY (giving note). Famous news! see, Bellair has delivered himself 


To your hands. He must go heart and soul wi'h tlhe Guelph, 
And vote straight, or he’s ruined. 


WALPOLE (reading). This note makes it clear 


V EASEY. 


WALPOLE. 
V EASEY, 


WALPOLE. 


ho 


That he’s guilty of Nithsdale’s escape. 
And I hear 
That to-night he will head some tumultuous revolt, 
Uniess chained to his stall like a mischevious colt. 
Your informant ? 
Guess! Blount; but on promise to save 
His young friend’s life and fortune! 
What Blount savs is grave. 
He would never thus speak if not sure of this fact. (signing 
warrant ) 
Here, then, take my State warrant ; Lut cautiously act. 
Bid Bellair keep his house—-forb.d exi's and entries ;— 
T'o make sure, at his dovr place a couple of sentries. 


VEASEY. 
WALPOLE. 


VEASEY. 


WALPOLE. 


WALPOLE 


[ Bait 


WALPOLE, 


Mrs. Viz. 


WALPOLE. 


Mrs. Viz. 


WALPOLE. 


Mrs. Viz. 


WALPOLE. 


Mrs. Viz. 
WALPOLE. 
Mrs. Viz. 
WALPOLE. 


~ Which did call itself “ Waiimos’ 


Mrs. Viz 


WALPOLE. 


Mrs. Viz 


WALPOLE. 


Mrs. Viz. 


WALPOLE. 


Mrs. Viz. 
WALPOLE. 


Mrs. Viz. 


WALPOLK. 


WALPOLE. 


Say I mean him no ill; but these times will excuse 
Much less gentle precautions than those which I use. 
Stay, Dame Vizard is waiting without ; to her den 
Nithsdale fled. She came here to betray him. 
What then ? 
Why, I kept her, perforce, til I sent on the sly, 
To prevent her from hearing Lord Nithsdale’s good-bye. 
When my agent arrived, I'm delighted to say 
That the cige-wires were broken,—the bird flown away ; 
But he found one poor captive imprisoned and weeping ; 
I must learn how that captive came into such keeping. 
Now, then, off—nay, a moment; you would not be loth 
Just to stay with Bellair 7—I may send for you both. 
With a host more delightful no mortal could sup, 
But a guest so unlooked for 
Will cheer the boy up ! 
[ Hxit VEASEY, L. 





(ringing hand-bell). 
Einteyr SERVANT, L. 


Usher in Mistress Vizard. 
SeRVANT, who ushers in Mrs. VizArv.—Then exit SERVANT. 


Quite shocked to detain you, 
But I knew a mistake, if there were one, wouid pain you. 
Sir, mistake there is not; that vile creature is no man. 
But you locked the door 2 
Fast. 
Then, no doubt, ’tis a woman, 
For she s signed thro’ the window. 
No woman durst ! 
Nay. 
When did woman want courage to go her own way ? 
You jest, sir. To me ’tis no subject for laughter. 
Po not weep. The reward? We'll discuss that hereafter, 
You'd not wrong a poor widow who brought you such news ? 
Wrong a widow !—there’s oil to put ia her cruse. (giving a 
pocket-book) 
Meanwhile, the tried agent dispatched to your house, 
In that trap found a poor little terrified mouse, 
—a name known to me, 
Pray, you, how in your trap dil that mouse come to be? 
(hesttatingly). Sir, believe me 
‘Spe eak truthefor your own sake you ought. 
By a gentlemun. sir, to my house she was brought. 
Ou! some Jacobite k.nsman perhaps ? 
Bless you, no; 
A respectable Roundhead. You frighten me so. 
A respectable Roundhead entrust to your care 
A younz girl whom you guard as in prison !—Beware ! 
’G inst decoy for vile purpose the law is severe. 
Fis! you libel a saint, sir, of morals austere. 
Do» you mean Judith Vizard 2 
I mean Selden Blount. 
Pmbewilder-d! But why dves this saint (no affront) 
To your pious retrea: a fair damsel confide! 





Mrs. Viz. 
WALPOLE. 


Mrs. Viz. 


ACT Itt. 29 


To protect her as ward till he claims her as bride. 

Faith, his saintship does well until that day arrive 

‘lo imprison the maid he proposes to wive. 

But these Roundheads are wont but with Roundheads to 
wed, 

And the name ‘of this lady is Wilmot, she said. 

Every Wilmot I know of is to the backbone 

A rank Jacobite; say can that name be her own ? 

Not a doubt; more than onceI have heard the girl say 

That her father had fought for King James on the day 

When the ranks of the Stuart were crushed at the Boyne. 

He escaped from the slaughter, and fled to rejoin 

At the Court of St. Germain’s his new-wedded bride. 

Long their hearth without prattlers ; a year ere he died, 

Lucy came to console her who mourned him, beret{t 

Of all else in this world. 


WALPOLE (eagerly). But the widow he left ; 


Mrs. Viz. 


She lives still? 
No; her child is now motherless. 


WALPOLE (aside). Fled ! 


SERVANT. 


WALPOLE. 


Fled again from us, sister! How stern are the dead! 
Their dumb lips have no pardon! Tut! shall I build grief 
On a guess that perchance only fools my belief? 

This may not be her child. (rings. ) 


Enter SERVANT, L. 
My coach waits ? 


At the door. 
Come; your house teems with secrets I long to explore. 


[Zreunt Waupoue and Mrs, Vizarp, t.— Hit SERVANT. L. 


Scene changes to 


SCENE III.—Mrs. Vizarp’s house, as before, but set in 8d grooves.—A 


Lucy. 


lamp on a table, R. C. 
Enter Lucy, R. D. 


Mistress Vizard still out! (ooking at the clock) What! so late ? 
O my heart !— 

How it beats! Have I promised in stealth to depart 2 

Trust him—yes! But will he, ah! long after this night, 

Trust the wife wooed so briefly, and won but by flight? 

My lost mother ! (takes a miniature from her breast) Oh couldst 
thou yet counsel thy child! 

No, this lip does not smile as it yesterday smiled. 

From thine heaven can no warning voice come to mine eur; 

Save thy chi:d from herself ;—’tis myself that I fear- 


Enter Waurour and Mrs. Vizarp, throug’ the secret door 


Mrs Viz. 


WALPOLE. 


Lucy, love, in this gentleman (curtsey, my dear) 


See a friend. 
Peace, and leave us. [ Hxit Mra. VizarD. R. 


WALPOLE (c.). Fair girl, LT would hear 





From yourself, if your parents 








30 WALPOLE. 
“LUCY (RB. C..), My parents; Oh say 
Did you know them ?—my mother? 
WALPOLE. The years roll away. 
I behold a gray hall backed by woodlands of pine; 
I behold a fair face—eyes and tresses like thine— 
By her side a rude boy full of turbulent life, 
All impatient of rest, and all burning for strife— 
They are brother and sister. Unconscious they stand— 
On the spot where their paths shall divide—hand in hand. 
Hush! a moment, and lo! as if lost amid night, 
She is gone from his side, she is snatched from his sight. 
Time has flowed on its course—that wild boy lives in me; 
But the sister I lost! Does she bloom back in thee? 
Speak—the name of thy mother, ere changing her own 
For her Jord’s—who _ her parents ? 
Lucy. I never have known. 
When she married my father, they spurned her, she said, 
Bade her hold herself henceforth to them as the dead; 
Slandered him in whose honor she gloried as wife, 
Urged attaint on his name, plotied snares for his life ; 
And one day when I asked what her lineage, she sigh d 
* From the heart they so tortured their memory has died.” 
Wavpo.e. Civil war slays all kindred—all mercy, all ruth. 
Lucy. Did you know her 1—if so, was this like her in youth? (giz- 
ing miniature. ) 
Watpote. It is she; the lips speak! Oh, I knew it !—thou art 
My lost sister restored !—to mine arms, to mine heart, 
That wild brother the wrongs of his race shall atone ; 
He has stormed his way up to the foot of the throne. 
Yes! thy mate thon shall choose ’mid the chiefs ef the Jar.d. 
Dost thou shrink ?—heard I right 27—is it promised this hand ? 
And to one, too, of years so unsuited to thine? 
Lucy. Dare I tell you ? 
WaALPoLe. Speak, sure that thy choice shall be mine. 
Lucy. When my mother lay stricken in mind and in frame, 
All our scant savings gone, to our succor there came 
A rich stranger, who lodged at the inn whence they sought \. 
To expel us as vagrants. Their mercy he bought; 
Ever since I was left in the wide world alone, 
I have owed to his pity this roof: : 
WALPOLE. Will you own 
What you gave in return ? 
Lucy. Grateful reverence. 
WALPOLE. And so 
He asked more ! 
Lucy. Ah! that more was not mine to bestow. 
Wa.rote. What! your heart some one younger already had won. 
Is he handsome ? 
Lucy Oh, yes! 
VALPouis. And a gentleman’s son ? 
Lucy, Sir, he looks it. 
WALPOLE. His name is 
Lucy. Sir Sidney Bellair. 
Waupoue. El)! that brilliant Lothario ? Dear Luey, beware; 


Men of temper so light may make love in mere sport. 
Where on earth did you meet ?— in what terms did he court % 


, ACL ITs 3] 


Why so troubled ? Why turn on the timepiece your eye ? 
Orphan, trust me. 

Lucy. I will. I half promised to fly 

Wa.poue. With Bellair. (aside) He shall answer for this with his life. 
Fly to-night as his—what! . 

Lucy. Turn your face—as his wife. (Lucy 

sinks down, burying her face in her hands.) 
WALPOLE. (going to D. F.) Jasper—ho! 





Finter SERVANT, D. F., as he writes on his tablets. 


Take my coach to Sir Sidney’s, Whitehall. 
Mr. Veasey is there; give him this—that is all. (tearing out 
the leaf from the tablet and folding it up) 
Go out the back way; it is nearest my carriage.* (opens the 
secret door L. in F., through which exit SERVANT) 
I shall very soon know if the puppy means marriage. 
Lucy. Listen ; ah! that’s his signal! (tup at window.) 
WALPOLE. A stone at the pane! 
- But it can’t be Bellair—he is safe. 
Lucy. There, again ! 
WaLPoLE (peeps out of window). Ho!—a ladder ! Niece, doas I bid you; 
confide 
In my word, and I promise Sir Sidney his bride ! 
Ope the window and whisper, ‘‘ I’m chained to the floor ; 
Pray come up and release me.” 


Lucy (calls out of window). “ Tm chained to the floor. 
Pray, come up and release me.” 
WALPOLE. I watch by this door. 


[ Bait, R. D., and peeps out. 


* Buounrt enters through window. 


Lucy. Saints in Heaven, Mr. Jones! (1. c.) 

WALPOLE (aside). Selden Blount, by old Nick! 

Buount. What! you are not then chained! Must each word be a 
trick ? 


Ah! you looked for a gallant more dainty and trim ; 
He deputes me to say he abandons his whim ; 

By his special request I am here in his place, 

Saving him from a crime and yourself from disgrace. 
Still ungrateful, excuse for your folly Imake— 

Still the prize he disdains to my heart I can take, 

Fly with me, as with him you would rashly have fled ;— 
He but sought to degrade you, I seek but to wed. 

Take revenge on the filse heart, give bliss to the true! 





TigcyY. If he’s false to myself, I were falser to you, 
Could I say I forget him? 

GLOUNT, You will, when my wife. 

LUCY. That can never be 

HLOUNT. Never! 

Lucy. One love -asts thro’ life! 





Buount, Traitress! think not this insult can tamely be borne 


*In obeying this instruction, the servant would not see the ladder, which (as the 
reader will learn by what immediately follows) is placed against the balcony in the 


- front of the house. 


32 3 WALPOLE. . 


Hearts like mine are too proud for submission to scorn. 
You are here at my mercy—that mercy has died ; 
You remain as my victim or part as my bride. (locks u. D.) 
See, escape is in vain, and ail others desert you; 
Let these arms be your refuge. 

WALPOLE (tapping him on the shoulder). Well said, Public Virtue! 


Buiount, stupified, drops the key, which WALPOLE takes up, stepping out into 
the balcony, to return as Buount, recovering himself, makes a rush at 


the window. 


WALPOLE (stopping him). As: you justly observed, ‘‘ See, escape is in 
vain ’— 
I have pushed down the ladder. 
Buounr (laying his hand on his sword), ’Sdeath! draw, sir! 
WALPOLE. Avustaill 
From that worst of all blunders, a profitless crime. 
Cut my innocent throat ? Fie! one sin at a time. 
Buounr. Sir, mock on, I deserve it; expose me to shame, 
I’ve o’erthrown my life’s labor,—an honest man’s name. 





Lucy (stealing up to Buount). No; a moment of madness can not sweep — 


away 


All I owed, and—forgive me—have failed to repay. (to Wat- 
POLE.) 
Be that moment a secret. 
WALPOLE. If woman can keep one, 


Then a secret’s a secret. Gad, Blount; you’re a deep one} 
(knock at D. ¥.— WALPOLE opens tt.) 


Finter, D. F., BELLAIR and VEASEY, followed by Mrs. Vizarp. 


e 


BELLAIR. (wot seeing WALPOLE, who is concealed behind the door which he 
opens, and hurrying to Buount). 
Faithless man, canst thou look on my face undismayed ? 
Nithsdaie’s letter disclosed, and my friendship betrayed ! 
What! and here too! Why here ? 
Buounr (aside). I shall be the town’s scoff. 
Wapote (to Betuarr and VeaAsey). Sirs, methinks that you see not 
that lady—hats off. 
I requested your presence, Sir Sidney Bellair, 
To make known what. you owe to the ‘friend w ho stands there. 
For that letter disclosed, your harsh language recan:— 
Its condition your pardon ;—full pardon I grant. 
He is here —you ask why; ’tis to save you to-night 
From degrading your bride by the scandal of flight. (drawing 
him aside) 
Or—hist !—did you intend (whisper close in my ear) 
Honest wedlock with one so beneath you I fear? 
You of lineage so ancient 
BELLAIR. Must mean what I say. 
Do their ancestors teach the well-born t» betray ? 
Waupo.e. Wed her friendless and penniless ? 
Bexar. Ay. 
WALPOLE. Strange caprice! 
Deign to ask, then, from Wa!pole the hand of his niece. 
Should he give his consent, thank the friend you abuse, 





@ 


ACT III. 33 


Briar (embracing Buount). Best and noblest of men, my blind fury 


WALPOLE 
BevuaIR. 
Lucy. 

Brwuair. 


WALPOLE. 


BELLAIR. 


WALPOLE. 


excuse, 
H ri! ler father’s lost Jands may yet serve for her dower. 
All the earth has no lands worth the bloom of this flower. 
Ah! too soon fades the flower. 

True, I alter the name. 

Be my perfect pure chrysoJite—ever the same. 
Hold ! I know not a chrysolite from a carbuncle, (with ine 

sinuating blandishiment of voice and look) 
But my nephew-in-law should not vote out his uncle. 
Robert Walpole, at last you have bought me, I fear. 
Every man has his price. My majority’s clear. 
If, (crossing quickly to Buount) ' 
Dear Blount, did your gooduess not rank with the best, 
What you feel as reproach, you would treat as a jest. 
Raise your head—and with me keep a laugh for the ass 
Who kas never gone out of his wits for a lass; 
Live again for your country—reflect on my Dill. 





Biount (with emotion, grasping WALPOLE'S hand). You are generous; | 


V BASEY. 


WALPOLE. 


Vrasey. 


thank you. Vote with you ?—I will! 
How dispersed are the clouds seeming lately so sinister ! 
Ycs, I think that the glass stands at Fair—for the Minister. 
Ah! what more could you do for the People and Throne ? 


Waxupoug. Now 1’m safe in my office, I’d leave well alone. 


SERVANTS AT BACK. 


Mrs. VIZARD. 


BevualiR. Lucy. Buount. VEASEY. 


' WALPOLE. 


CURTAIN. 


84 WALPOLE. 


SYNOPSIS. 


The main peculiarity of this comedy is its being written in English verse. 
Rosert WALPOLE, Premier of England at the accession of George I., finds his 
authority and that of the Whig party in danger, on the one side assailed by SenpEN 
Biount, a demagogue, clamoring about “‘ Public Virtue,” and, on the other, by Sir 
SrpnEy BELuAIR, representative of the Jacobites. WALPOLE resolves upon buying 
up both of these party leaders, and, through Vrasry, his parliamentary agent, offers 
BuounT a lucrative sinecure, while to BaLuatr is hinted marriage with the daughter 
of a duke and his elevation to the peerage. But these propositions are ineffectual, 
whereupon WALPOLE resolves to expose BLount’s hypocritical pretensions and en- 
trap BeLtarr into some Jacobite plot. The premier suffers Lorp NitHspALr, a 
royalist, to escape from the tower, who takes refuge, disguished as a woman, in the 
house of Mrs, Vizarp, to whom Buiount has entrusted thecharge of Lucy W 1LMOT, 
orphan daughter to a slain Jacobite, whom the Roundhead has caused to be brought 
up with the idea of making her his wife, clandestinely, DBrtuatr, having rescued 
the girl from the “ Mohawks,” or night roysterers, makes her acquaintance and offers 
to marry her. He, regarding BLounr to be his sincere friend, employs him to inter- 
cede with the lady in his behalf, but Buounr directs Mrs, Vizarp to keep Lucy 
close under lock and key until he can obtain a parson and marry her himself. 
Meanwhile, Mrs. Vizanp, learning the man in woman's garments to be NITHSDALE, 
goes to WaLpPoug to betray him fora reward. The Jacobite, in endeavoring to force 
his way out of the house, encounters Lucy, with whom he succeeds in exchanging 
clothing. Brxtuair, who has entered the house by means of a ladder, to induce 
Lucy to elope, mistakes the man in disguise for the young lady, and attempts to aid 
in her flight. Undeceived, however, he chivalrously affords the proscribed nobleman 
an opportunity to seek safety abroad. WaxLpoue, disgusted at Mrs. Vizarp’s 
treachery, repairs to her house, where he sees Lucy Wiumort, and recognizes in her 
the daughter of a long-lost sister. He, moreover, overhears BLount, only known to 
Lucy as Jones, threaten to ruin the girl in the event of her not becoming his wife, 
while the demagogue, through Vrasry, has denounced his friend, BeLLatr, as the 
leader of a threatened Jacobite insurrection. Having reduced his political enemies 
to submission through entrapping them into his power, WALPOLE reconciles them 
to himself through the pardon of BLousv’s indignity to his niece, and her disposal 
to BELLAIR in marriage. 


kh 








De Witt’s Acting Plays—Continued. 








= 


Ne. No. . 

#@. The Midnight Watch. Drama. 1 Act. 80. A Charming Pair. Farce. 1 Act. By 
By John M, Morton, 6 Male, 2 Female Char- Thomas J, Williams. 4 Male, 3 Female Char- 
acters. acters, 

8. Whe Porter’s Knot. Serio-Comic Drama, sl. Wandyhke Brown. Farce. 1 Act. By A. 
rien By John Oxenford. & Male, 2 Female C, Troughton. 3 Male, 3 Female Characters. 
Characters. ’ i 

51. A Model fora Wife. Farce. 1 Act. By ve Pisa Danty Cane Votston) trio Drain 7d 
Alfred Wigan. 38 Male, 2 Female Characters. Acts. By Edmund Falconer. 12 Male, 4 Fe- 

62. A Cup of Tea. Comedietta. 1 Act. By male Characters. 

; Charles Nuitterand J. Derley. 3 Male, 1 Fe- 88. Thrice Married. fPersonation Piece. 1 

, 
male Characters. Act. By Howard Paul. 6 Male, 1 Female 

63. Gertrude’s Money-Box. Farce. 1 Act. Characters. 

Br Harry Lemon. 4 Male, 2 Female Characters, $4. Not Guilty. Drama 4 Acts. By Watts 

54, The Young Cellegian, Farce. 1 Act. ‘ Phillips. 10 Male, 6 Female Characters. 

By T. W. Robertson, 3 Male, 2 Female Char- 85. ae By HL ee ais ee M Pinas 
acters. ae i sik . ra - 

65. Cathérine Howard: er, The Throne, the beige 
Tomb and the Scaffold. Historic Play. 3 Acts, | % Zhe Mady of Lyonss or, Love and Pride. 
By W. D. Suter. 12 Male, 5 Female Characters. ee Letter. Me Bie ei sect be: 

. a lar . 

56. Two Gay Deceivers; or, Black, White 8%. Locked Out. ; ‘ ep 
and Gray. Farce. 1 Act. By T. W. Robert- heat she gh mitose Oninic. Bonne: TeAchs:s bY 
Coat she Nea racters, Howard Pal.” 1 Male, 1 Female Characters. 

5%. Noemie. Drama. 2 Acts. By T. W.Bobert- | 88. Founded on Facts. Farce. 1 Act. By 
son. 4 Male, 4 Female Characters. J.P. Wooler, 4 Male, 2 Female Character. 

68. Deborah (Leah); or, The Jewish Maiden’s 89. Aumt Charlotte’s Maid. Fares. 1 Act. 
Wrong. Drama. 3Acts. By Chas. Smith By J. M. Morton. 3 Male, 3 Female Charac- 
Cheltnam. 1 Male, 6 Female Characters, ters. ; 

69. The Post-Boy. Drama. 2 Acts. By H. T. oo oe ~ a hee Mareacny Seba ey 
Craven, 5 Male,3 Female Characters. ohn Oxenford, 2 Male, 3 Fenx.te Characters, 

60. Whe Hiddem Hand: or,The Gray Lady of! 91. WWalpole; or, Every Man has his Price. 
Porth Vennon. Drama. "4 Acts. tay ‘tom eG etic tes By tard Lat 
Ta ‘or. 5 Mal N “8, Oe remaie racters. 

; pen as $ Femsle Characters 92. My WWite’s Out. Farce. 1 Act. ByG. 

a. Plot and Passion. Drama, 3 Acts. By Herbert Rodwell. 2 Male,3 Female Characters, 
Tom ‘Taylor. 7 Male, 2 Female Characters, 93. The Area Belle. Farce. 1 Act. By William 

i a e ‘Ce Be . am 

62. A Photographic Wix. Farce. 1 Act. By Brough and Andrew Halliday. 3 Male, 2 Fe- 

ric abt Hay. © 3 Male, 2 Female Charac- male Characters, 
ers. 94. Our Clerks; or, No. 3 Fig Tree Court Tem 

68, Marriage at any Price. Farce. 1 Act. . ple. Farce. 1 Act. 17 Male, 5 Female Char- 

BP J.P. Wooler. 6 Male, 3 Female Charac- acters, 
ers. 95. The Pretty Horse Breaker. Farce. 

@t. A Household Fairy. A Domestic Sketch, 1 Act. By William Brough and Andrew Halli- 
1 Act. By Francis Talfourd. 1 Male, 1 Fe- day. 3 Male, 10 female Characters. 
male Characters, 96. Dearest: Mamma. Comedietta, 1 Act. 

65. Checkmate. Comedy Farce. 2 Acts. By By Walter Gordon. 4 Male, 8 Female Charac- 
ns tad Halliday. 6 Male,5 Female Charac- | ters. 
ers, 97. Orange Bloss - C F 

66, idler ape soe pti in a Prologue : By a. P. Wooler! “3 Male, 3 Foutala cuntacters: 

3 Acts, = 
See Chareclos alle: 18 Male, 4.Fe- 1!) 98, Whois‘ WHe?) or, All in a Fog. » Farce. 

61. The Birth-place of Podgers. Farce lAct. By Thomas J. Williams, 3 Male, 2 Fe- 
1 Act. By John Hollingshead. 7 Male, 3 Fe- cg dhe ek el 
ante Chava ctars. e ? 99. ‘on “igh iefeg peal Comedy. 3 Acta. 10 

68. The Ch li a ale, 2 Female Characters. 

3 Acts. By T. W. Discs sale, 3, Fe, 100, Jack Long: or, The Shotin the Eye. Drama, 
Ee tiieate Character . ’ 2 Acts. By J.B. Johnstone. 5 Male, 1 Female 
cte—, Ch. 

69. Caught by tae Cuff. Farce. 1 Act. By maha 
Frederick Hay. 4 Male, 1 Female Characters, 101. Fernande. Drama. 3 Acts. By Victorien 

70. The Bonnie Fish Wife. Farce. 1 Act. 10 7 tee eee dbl eae te 
By Charles Selby. 3 Male, 1 Female Characters, 5 Fotled. ate A Acts, By 0. W. Cornish.- - 

ll. Doing for the Rest. Domestic Drama. 2 age ee a 
ih eke. : : . 103, Faust and Margueritte. D < 
7 aera Raphino Lacy. & Male, 3 Female Acts hy DW. Haberisht, 0 Male, peat 

12. A Lame Excuse. Farce. 1 Act. By Fred- ey 
erick Hay. 4 Male, 2 Female Characters, 104. No Name, Drama. 4 Acta. By Wilkie Col- 

lins. 7 Male, 5 Female Characters 

73. Fettercd. Drama. 3 Acts. By Watts Phil- 105. Whic : 
lips. 11 Male, 4 Female Characters. 7.uR ch of the Two. Comediotenss, U.b9e 

14, The Garrick Fever. Farce. 1Act. By ee aye John M Morton. 2% Male, 10 Femalo Characterg 

; p for the Cattle Show. Farce. 1 
J.R. Planche. 17 Male, 4 Female Characters, By Uarry Lemon. 6 Male, 2 Female Gearatiests 

%. Adrienne. Drama..3 Acts. By Henry Leslie. 

7 Male, 3 Female Characters. 107. Cupboard Love. Farce. 1 Act. By Fred- 

76. Chops of the Channel. Nautical Farce. ; ad dara al Gato pte vat macabre the 
ae : By Frederick Hay. , 3 Male, 2 Female 108, Mr. Perogs ths, r pare Act. By William 

aracters. i ancock. 4 Male, 3} Te nale Characters 

1%. The Roll ofthe Drum. Drama. 8 Acts los. Li i 

: ; e ' b ocked Im. Comedictta. 1 Act. By J. P. 
te Egerton Wilks. 8 Male, 4 Female Wooler. % ia.e,3 Female Characters fh 

78, Special Performances. Farce. 1 Act. ie Poppleton’s ook aay re AS 3 
By Wilmot Harrison. © 7 Mule,3 Female Char- hy: Deg hacty a yor bebe vse oy 
actora. ; 

7. A Sheep in. WWolf’s Cl y 111, The Liar. Comedy. 2 Acts. By 8am'l Foote. 
ee hee, “ taser erene Altered and adapted by Charles Matthews..7. Male 
Waindla Characters. . , and 2 Female Characters. 

pee 








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